If you were to go back to my New Providence, N.J., High School yearbook, you would notice a few things.

One is that my appearance hasn't changed a bit, except for my body, face and hair.

Another is that I was something of an arch-conservative.

The little blurb under my photo indicated, among other stupid bits of trivia, that I was a big admirer of William F. Buckley Jr. It’s true. I knew that I wanted to be a columnist, and I thought Buckley was great. My shelves were stocked with books by him and Art Buchwald.

Many things have changed since then, including my political leanings. But my view of the core values that constitute a conservative haven’t particularly changed.

I know, some of you liberals out there would make this list pejorative. “Interested only in the welfare of rich people.” “Indifferent to the plight of the needy and the cities.”

Conservatives, on the other hand, might shape it to fit the pious spin that has resonated with voters. “Concerned about family values.” “High moral standards.”

I’m playing it straight. Here are some traditional conservative values:

-- Government should stay out of people’s personal lives. We need less government, not more. Be distrustful of government, as problem-solver and busy-body. -- You are responsible for your own actions. -- In the business world, market forces should rule, and government should keep its nose out as much as possible. -- Environmental protection should be carefully weighed against economic reality. -- Government should maintain balanced budgets. -- A strong national defense is a top priority.

You might tweak some of those and add some others, but that’s not a bad list.

The irony is that in a country that is seriously polarized by political differences, the supposed conservatives in control of our government haven’t been acting like real conservatives at all. In some cases, in fact, the liberals are espousing the traditionally conservative view.

Yes, the Bush administration wants to leave big business alone to do its thing, and certainly it is willing to spend money on the military. Economic reality, as the administration perceives it, is crushing the notion of environmental protection, so I suppose that fits, too.

But look at the others. Keep government out of our personal lives? Distrust government? Government never has dug deeper into our personal lives, thanks to the USA Patriot Act and the administration’s assertion that it’s OK to snoop on us without a warrant. This administration asserts that the Commander In Chief can do whatever he wants, and that it's foolish and even unpatriotic to complain about it.

The explanation — for pretty much anything, really — is 9/11. If you aren’t breaking the law, you shouldn’t worry if the government is looking over your shoulder. Anyway, don’t you remember Sept. 11?

Personal responsibility? In the Bush administration, no one takes responsibility for anything, no matter how egregious. The buck stops … nowhere, actually.

As for balanced budgets, that’s where Bush strays furthest from the conservative mold. Continuously cutting taxes — and simultaneously increasing spending — may not constitute “tax and spend,” but it certainly is “borrow and spend.” How can you wage war, rebuild from unprecedented natural disaster and cut taxes at the same time? This is fiscal conservatism? The man hasn’t vetoed a single bill since he was elected. The porkmeisters in Congress never had it so good.

And yeah, we’re spending money on the military. But we aren’t equipping our servicepeople properly, and we have thrust them into a no-win situation with no exit in sight. With supporters like those, who needs enemies?

I mention all this because my recent column expressing concern about our drift toward a society reminiscent of Orwell’s “1984” was criticized by some conservative readers on kneejerk grounds. Don’t you remember 9/11? What can we expect from a liberal?

I don’t get it. The real conservatives should be the ones screaming loudest about what’s happening to our country. Where are they?

One of my first posts on this blog was about Travis McGee, the fictional character created by the late author John D. MacDonald. The McGee series is terrific -- I guess you could describe them as mysteries, although that seems inadequate -- and if you haven't experienced any of them, I strongly recommend them to you.

Rather than reinvent the wheel, here's what I wrote in that blog entry several months ago:

"He was a heroic beach bum/philosopher who was bigger, tougher and smarter than everyone else. He was irresistible to women. He lived on his houseboat, the Busted Flush, and never worked. Rather, he functioned as a sort of Robin Hood, recovering ill-gotten gains from the rich and returning them to the poor victims, while pocketing half the proceeds. He billed himself as a 'salvage consultant.'

"The late MacDonald also used these books to bash the crass over-development of Florida, pioneering themes that later novelists such as Carl Hiaasan (another favorite of mine) pursued with even more vigor."

I return to the subject today for two reasons. One is that Darren McGavin, who portrayed McGee in some of the audio books made from the series, died over the weekend. I never quite bought McGavin as McGee, maybe because he was too familiar to me in other roles, or maybe because I was annoyed that they ruthlessly abridged the books.

More significantly, someone just posted a comment on that long-ago blog entry, and he mentioned a MacDonaldlike author I recently discovered myself. Here's the posting, from Glen:

"John D. MacDonald is a favorite of mine that has led to reading many other Florida Mystery writers, of which Randy Wayne White has become my new favorite.

"When I read of movies/TV of JDM's work, 'Cape Fear' is always ignored. It has been produced twice, based on his book 'Deceivers.'"

Randy Wayne White is excellent. I've listened to two of his books on tape over the last month or so, and now that I've exhausted the library's supply of those, I'll be reading everything I can get my hands on. The main character in his series is Doc Ford, a scholarly Florida marine biologist with a violent past.

Even before I saw Glen's note, I was struck by the similarities to MacDonald's novels, and not just because of the Florida setting. Both authors created vivid main characters and colorful sidekicks, and they share a penchant for long side trips into environmental or philosophical subjects.

Here's White's Web site. If you haven't read any of his books, by all means check him out.

I'm an "American Idol" fan, and since I have my own blog, I intend to tell you every week what I think about the contestants. This also will give you a place to make your own comments.

This week's casualties from the top 12 boys and girls -- Bobby, Becky, Patrick and Stevie -- all deserved to get the boot, so I have no complaints, although any number of other contestants also deserved to lose. However, I would say that Bobby is the worst contestant I've ever seen advance this far. Can't sing, big slob, annoying personality. This is talent?

Here are my top 6 so far, in order: Paris, Ace, Katharine, Mandisa, Taylor and Elliott.

Most likely to be evicted next week: Heather, Bucky, Sway and (I hope) Brenna. The three teenybopper boys -- especially the startlingly dweebish Kevin -- are marginal, but the teenybopper girls will keep them around as long as possible, no matter how bad they sing. Exhibit A: John Stephens.

Most annoying: Brenna, now that Bobby is gone. After her failed experiment at acting sensitive, she'll be back in obnoxious butt-slapping mode next week. Buh-bye.

OK, let's review the leftovers from last week's edition of Movie Quotes.

My only quotes left unanswered were:

1. Some men get the world. Others get ex-hookers and a trip to Arizona.

2. You're immature, Fielding. How am I immature? Well, emotionally, sexually, and intellectually. Yeah, but what other ways?

3. Was that the boogeyman? As a matter of fact... it was.

I'm not particularly surprised that no one got the middle one, which is an exchange between Woody Allen and Louise Lasser in the classic, "Bananas." It's kind of old, and I seem to do better on here with movies of more recent vintage.

I'm mildly surprised that no one answered No. 1, the great closing line from the terrific "L.A. Confidential," spoken by Oscar-winner Kim Basinger.

No. 3 is from one of my very favorite horror movies. It's "Halloween," with psychiatrist Donald Pleasance answering a terrorized Jamie Lee Curtis.

Readers added three new ones in their comments, and since I don't know the answers, I'll repeat them here in hopes that someone recognizes them. They are:

1. You come in here with a skull full of mush and you leave thinking like a lawyer.

2. He's a man from outer space and we're taking him to his spaceship. Well, can't he just beam up? This is REALITY

3. Searching for a guy in high school is like searching for meaning in a Paulie Shore movie.

I'll add a few more:

4. You know my name but who are you? Just another American who saw too many movies as a child? Another orphan of a bankrupt culture who thinks he's John Wayne? Rambo? Marshall Dillon? Was always kinda' partial to Roy Rogers actually. I really dig those sequined shirts.

5. What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered? That about sums it up for me.

6. Y'know, this was supposed to be my weekend off, but noooo. You got me out here draggin' your heavy ass through the burnin' desert with your dreadlocks stickin' out the back of my parachute. You gotta come down here with an attitude, actin' all big and bad... and what the hell is that smell? I could've been at a barbecue! But I ain't mad."

In the wake of my column today about partisanship among Democrats on Northampton County Council -- specifically, I suggested they're acting like party hacks -- I heard from a reader who defended their behavior.

"My statement," he said, "is there's something worse than a hack, and it's a Republican."

I tried to explain the distinction between the local party politics and what happens on the statewide and national levels. Whereas politicians in Washington and Harrisburg tend to vote in lockstep on most issues, local politicians seem to be driven more by personal relationships and their own agendas. I've never had the sense of County Council -- or the Lehigh County Commissioners -- as highly partisan bodies.

I consider this a plus, so I'm alarmed to see it changing.

But the caller just reiterated that voters elected a Democrat as Northampton county executive, and they expect him to put Democrats, not Republicans, in his cabinet.Then he repeated his mission statement about hacks and Republicans.

He wasn't the only one who criticized my views on this subject. But I remain convinced that: 1. Voters need to judge the man or woman, not the party affiliation, particularly in local government. 2. A new chief executive should have the opportunity to choose his own team, within reason, and that his nominees shouldn't be rejected except in extreme circumstances 3. This County Council will achieve the best results for the taxpayers by working together in a non-partisan manner.

I'm short on time today, so I'll pass along a list someone sent me. Be aware that some of these quotes, supposedly from real church bulletins, have been floating around for years, and I don't vouch for their veracity. All that follows is from the e-mail:

They're back! Church Bulletins: Thank God for church ladies with typewriters. These sentences actually appeared in church bulletins or were announced in church services: ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Fasting & Prayer Conference includes meals.----------------------------------------------------------------------- The sermon this morning: "Jesus Walks on the Water." The sermon tonight: "Searching for Jesus."------------------------------------------------------------------------ Our youth basketball team is back in action Wednesday at 8pm in the recreation hall Come out and watch us kill Christ the King.------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ladies, don't forget the rummage sale. It's a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Don't forget yourhusbands.------------------------------------------------------------------------ The peacemaking meeting scheduled for today has been canceled due to a conflict.------------------------------------------------------------------------ Remember in prayer the many who are sick of our community. Smile atsomeone who is hard to love. Say "Hell" to someone who doesn't caremuch about you.------------------------------------------------------------------------ Don't let worry kill you off - let the Church help. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Miss Charlene Mason sang "I will not pass this way again," givingobvious pleasure to the congregation. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ For those of you who have children and don't know it, we have anursery downstairs.------------------------------------------------------------------------ Next Wednesday there will be tryouts for the choir. They need all the help they can get.------------------------------------------------------------------------ Barbara remains in the hospital and needs blood donors for moretransfusions.She is also having trouble sleeping and requests tapes of Pastor Winston's sermons.------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Rector will preach his farewell message after which the choirwill sing: "Break Forth Into Joy." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Irving Benson and Jessie Carter were married on October 24 in thechurch.So ends a friendship that began in their school days. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ A bean supper will be held on Tuesday evening in the church hall.Music will follow.------------------------------------------------------------------------ At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be "What IsHell?"Come early and listen to our choir practice. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Eight new choir robes are currently needed due to the addition ofseveral new members and to the deterioration of some older ones. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Scouts are saving aluminum cans, bottles and other items to berecycled.Proceeds will be used to cripple children. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Please place your donation in the envelope along with the deceasedperson you want remembered.------------------------------------------------------------------------ The church will host an evening of fine dining, super entertainmentand gracious hostility.------------------------------------------------------------------------ Potluck supper Sunday at 5:00pm - prayer and medication to follow.----------------------------------------------------------------------- - The ladies of the Church have cast off clothing of every kind. Theymay be seen in the basement on Wednesday morning.----------------------------------------------------------------------- - This evening at 7pm there will be a hymn singing in the park acrossfrom the Church. Bring a blanket and come prepared to sin.----------------------------------------------------------------------- - Ladies Bible Study will be held Thursday morning at 10am. All ladiesare invited to lunch in the Fellowship Hall after the B. S. is done.----------------------------------------------------------------------- - The pastor would appreciate it if the ladies of the congregationwould lend him their electric girdles for the pancake breakfast nextSunday.----------------------------------------------------------------------- - Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7pm. Please usethe back door.------------------------------------------------------------------------ The eighth-graders will be presenting Shakespeare's Hamlet in theChurch Basement Friday at 7 PM. The congregation is invited to attendthis tragedy.----------------------------------------------------------------------- - The Associate Minister unveiled the church's new tithing campaignslogan last Sunday: "I Upped My Pledge - Up Yours."

All right, enough already with the Looove Connection. This year's edition will facilitate at least two dates, both of which will be disasters, if past experience is any indication.

In the unlikely event that an actual relationship develops, you'll be among the first to know. Meantime, let's do movie quotes today. See if you can tell me which movies produced these bits of dialogue. Feel free to throw your own quotes out there for our consideration.

1. What would you do if you had a million dollars? I'll tell you what I'd do, man ... two chicks at the same time, man.

2. Royale with cheese.

3. Some men get the world. Others get ex-hookers and a trip to Arizona.

4. You're immature, Fielding. How am I immature? Well, emotionally, sexually, and intellectually. Yeah, but what other ways?

5. Oh Moses, Moses, you stubborn, splendid, adorable fool!

6. Was that the boogeyman? As a matter of fact... it was.

7. My Mama says that alligators are ornery because they got all them teeth and no toothbrush.

8. All I have to say about that is ‘asphinctersayswhat.’ What? Exactly.

The Looove Connection continues today with a couple of items, one cute and one kind of creepy.

The cute one comes from an area teacher who wrote:

“I will be attending a wedding Friday evening of two students from an eighth grade class, obviously some years ago. They were always picking, teasing and obviously interested in each other. When the team teachers would tease that they were going to get married some day, the answer was yuk! We are so happy that they invited those prophetic teachers to the wedding Friday evening!”

My other item involves a long letter — five neatly hand-written pages — I received from an area man. “With Valentine’s Day not too far away, I would like to share my story of long lost love and heartbreak.”

He wrote about how he had a crush on a girl two years older than he was in high school. “I fell head over heels for her, but didn’t have the guts to tell her,” he wrote.

Ten years later, he ran into her again. They talked a bit, rekindling his strong feelings for her, but his girlfriend was too jealous to let him talk to her long, and again he failed to tell this young woman how he felt.

When he met her again more than a year later, she was involved in a bad relationship. He asked her out, she left her boyfriend, and he finally got to tell her that he had been in love with her since 10th grade. He described their first kiss and other details of their courtship at length. They moved in together.

Eventually, it turned sour. She told him she didn’t love him anymore and took up with another guy. “She ripped my heart out and stepped on it,” he concluded.

Not a particularly unusual story so far, but here’s why it said it’s a bit creepy. First of all, he was writing to me from an area prison, where he is incarcerated “for reasons I would rather not say,” he wrote. When he and this girl finally began dating, he was out on bail. When she left him, he was in the process of serving his term.

That’s not so creepy. Inmates are entitled to their feelings, and the Doctor of Love doesn’t discriminate.

But then I looked his name up in our library system, and discovered that he was imprisoned on child pornography charges.

No wonder he didn’t want to say why he was in jail.

He did sound genuinely broken up about losing his girlfriend, whom he says he still loves, so I do feel somewhat sympathetic. But under the circumstances, it’s hard to really blame her for dumping him.

That first story is a lot nicer, obviously. Childhood friends march down the aisle, live happily ever after.

But prison and child pornography aside, I suspect a lot more love stories end up like that second one.

“All I know is that I’m going to be more careful in the future with who I give my heart to,” the inmate wrote. “I don’t think I can handle having it broken again."

The Looove Connection continues, with a married woman’s blood-curdling comments on gifts for Valentine’s Day.

I find it all kind of disturbing, but I must admit, I’m a guy who has no confidence in his ability to pick gifts for his wife, so maybe I need to pay attention.

The author is reader Cathy Gregor, who marked her e-mail “copyright 2006,” but gave me permission to reproduce it.

“Thank God the holidays are over,” she wrote, “there is just so much frenzy trying to get the right gifts, and let’s face it, most of them get returned. Now we are all settled in and feel comfortable after we unloaded our unwanted gifts, if you were lucky enough to get receipts to return them. If not, I wonder how many people ‘recycle’ the gifts and stash them away to pass on to some other schmuck next year.

“I had to run into the store the other day and was shocked that Valentine's sales are displayed next to the ‘close out’ Christmas sales. It was bad enough last year just getting through Thanksgiving and see Christmas trees even before we cooked our Thanksgiving turkey.

“Well, I guess that is what 2006 turns into and ‘gently’ pushes us into the next holiday. Yes, Valentine's Day is next.

“I guess I am just a rebel of sorts, I say, let’s just ‘lock and load’ and wait for that darn fairy dressed in red with wings and his bow and arrows shooting love around, like drunken sailors on leave at the local bar shooting darts, and is officially called cupid.

“First of all, cupid is not real and what would be wrong to have a hunting season designated for the fairy? Well, think about it, we usually eat only chocolate for Valentine's, which your ‘cupid’ gives you, and if you are really lucky, you also get a bunch of flowers, too. After you gush over the flowers and suck down the box of chocolates, which immediately adds five! pounds to your hips, you look up adoringly into his face and his eyes are ‘glowing’ like a werewolf ready to pounce. STOP RIGHT THERE.

“No, we do have a choice: chocolate, flowers or JEWELRY. Come on, girls, don't wimp out, just go for the good stuff. Chocolate goes to your hips, flowers wilt and die, but gold or silver jewelry you can wear for a lifetime. I say, let’s all ban together and kick cupid's butt! Tell the bugger for Valentine’s to take his bow and arrow and shove it.

“All right girls, let’s chant together, ‘WHO LET THE DOGS OUT.’ That is the cheer for our men and their sports, and it can work for us, too. Maybe if we all ban together to grunt and cheer like they do, we could all make out like ‘bandits’ for Valentine’s, instead of just chocolate and flowers.”

For the record, I gave my wife ... chocolate and flowers. But hey, I threw in a heart-shaped balloon.

I know, I'm supposed to be doing Looove Connection all week, but I decided to slip in this bonus blog entry.

Frankly, I was powerless to resist. Here goes:

“Hello, I’m Tom Ackerman. Welcome to another edition of ‘The New American Sportsman.’

“Our guest today is Vice President Dick Cheney. The vice president is an avid sportsman, and we’ll be doing some quail hunting with him today here on the ranch of one of his many close campaign contributors in Texas. Mr. Vice President, it’s good to see you again.”

“Thank you, Tom. There’s nothing I love more than getting out in the great outdoors with my oil buddies and shooting birds.”

“I see you’ve brought quite a contingent with you.”

“Yes, those are Secret Service agents and medical staff, here in case I keel over with another heart attack.”

“I noticed they’re all wearing Kevlar vests, even the doctors. Why is …”

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

“Mr. Vice President, you just shot one of our cameramen.”

The doctors rushed toward Cheney with defibrillation paddles drawn. “I’m fine, you idiots!” he shouted. “Check on that cameraman.”

As the doctors began treating the shooting victim, Cheney muttered, “Darned fool shouldn’t wear quail-colored clothing to this kind of hunt. He must not have much experience in the woods.”

“He’s never had the experience of being shot before, if that’s what you mean. And we’re in the parking lot, not the woods.”

“Tom,” Cheney said, “don’t turn squeamish on me here. It’s very clear that this accident was his fault, not mine. I think …” BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

“Mr. Vice President, you probably should wait until we get out onto the actual field where the hunt is taking place. You just killed one of the rancher’s cows.”

“Darned thing crept up behind me,” Cheney said. “Guess we’ll be eating steaks tonight for supper!” He chuckled out the side of his mouth.

Ackerman shook his head. “You really need to be more careful where you’re shooting. We don’t want to promote reckless gunplay on our show.”

“Reckless? Ackerman, you’re addressing the vice president of the United States. Maybe a few months at Gitmo will teach you to keep a civil tongue in your mouth.”

“It might, but you can’t torture our entire crew.”

“Maybe not, but we can confiscate … BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! (Sound of breaking glass and hissing air from a tire.) Did I get one?”

‘You shot the ambulance! Now how are we going to get our cameraman to the hospital?”

“No need to worry about hospitals. Too much red tape and publicity. My docs will patch him up right here, and no one will be the wiser.”

“Mr. Vice President,” one of his doctors cautioned, “he’s in pretty bad shape.”

“With all due respect,” Ackerman said, “I think ESPN will insist he gets the best of medical care.”

“What’s wrong with you people? Our boys in Iraq are dealing with real danger every day, and you’re worried about some cameraman with a load of buckshot in his keister? It’s un-American.”

“I don’t …”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re working for Al-Qaeda. Don’t think we didn’t check you out before I agreed to appear on your little show here. We got your library records dating back 30 years.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“If you haven’t been doing anything wrong, you got nothing to hide. Right?”

“You don’t have video store records, do you?”

“Darned straight. Perfectly legal under the Patriot Act. Now here’s what we’re going to do. My docs are going to patch this quail-impersonating SOB up in my buddy’s ranch house there, and it’s going to be our little secret. How does that sound?”

“I guess I don’t have much choice.”

“Meanwhile, we’re going to finish our hunt, and it’ll make a terrific show. How many cameramen you got left?”

“Two.”

“So we got a backup if there’s another accident. Perfect.”

Ackerman turned to the nearest Secret Service agent. “You got any extra vests?”

A guy called me the other day to inquire into dating one of the women I had written about in a Looove Connection column.

I promised to pass his vital information on to her. Then we got talking about his unsuccessful attempts to find a girlfriend, and he told me that he has been advertising in the ISO listings and another matchmaking service for years, without much success. He always writes that he’s looking for a woman between 30 and 50.

Him? He’s 50.

I told him that the woman he was inquiring about probably is in her mid-30s, which might be too big a difference. He replied that he thinks women tend to be too inflexible in their age requirements.

Now think about this. This guy is 50. He’ll only date women younger than he is — 20 years younger is fine — but he think women are too inflexible.

With all due respect to all you old goats out there, you need to understand that much younger women aren’t necessarily clamoring to go out with you, unless you’re really rich. As the Doctor of Love, my biggest piece of advice to yearning middle-aged men is to give up on the young chicks and look for women in their own age group. There are plenty of them out there, and they're looking, too.

Just change the ISO from 30-50 to 40-60, and I suspect you’ll get a lot more replies.

I never have room in my newspaper column to run all the Looove Connection stories I receive, so this week I'm going to put some of them here on the blog.

The first is really an update, from a couple who provided one of my best Doctor of Love stories ever, back in 1997. I'll review that one quickly before proceeding to the letter.

Nora Trimm of Bethlehem was widowed in 1981 at age 32. She deflected her friends' attempts to fix her up with someone, believing she could never find true love a second time. One of those attempts involved a nice young man who lived not far away and could fix anything, she was told.

One day, a handsome young man showed up at her front door. He had blood running down his knees, and explained that he had fallen off his bicycle, and hoped she might have something he could use to clean up. Suspicious of strangers -- her late husband had regaled her with horror stories from his days working in a prison -- she gave him towels and a Band-Aid and left him out on the front porch.

But she met him again a month later, and he reminded her of their encounter. They became friends and, eventually, more. He confessed that his bicycle fall had been a ruse to meet her after the friend's matchmaking attempts -- he was that "nice young man" -- had failed.

Every year, Jeff and Nora celebrate "Bicycle Day," and she wrote, "In addition to wearing my wedding ring, I also wear a tiny silver bicycle around my neck, a present from `the nice young man down the road who can fix anything' -- even broken hearts."

OK, so that's the background. Here's Nora's recent letter:

"I read your column this morning and decided to send you an update on the 'bicycle crash' meeting which took place on June 7, 1981, and the silver bicycle necklace I was given that year for Christmas.

"We have celebrated Bicycle Day (dinner, roses, etc.) ever since the initial 'crash.' This year was a bit different:

"One day during the week before Bicycle Day 2005, I removed the silver bicycle from around my neck in order to wear another necklace. (This happens on rare occasions. When I do remove the silver necklace, I always place it on top of my jewelry box. At the end of the day, I make the exchange and the silver bicycle is returned to my neck and the other necklace goes back in the jewelry box. It’s a routine that never varies.)

"When I returned home that evening and went to make the exchange, my silver bicycle necklace was not where I had left it! I panicked and wondered if I was having a serious 'senior moment.' Had I decided to put the bicycle in a safer location and forgot where? Did the cat get up on the dresser and somehow get tangled up in the necklace? (This never happened before, but my distraught mind was covering all territory!) Did it fall into a drawer? I searched drawers, crawled around the floor and searched desperately -- to no avail. For a brief moment I entertained the thought that perhaps my husband Jeff, who was home that week, was going to get me a gold one since this was our 25th Bicycle Day celebration, but I dismissed that thought as an odd fantasy.

"I was near tears when I told Jeff, who said not to worry -- he’d look for it the next day when he cleaned the house. (Yes, he does housework, too -- and laundry and cooking when needed!!).

"The next day Jeff called me at work and said, 'I have good news and bad news for you. The good news is I found your bicycle; the bad news is I found it with the vacuum cleaner!' BUT -- not to worry: My hero rushed the necklace to Cleo’s and they would be able to repair it for me by the next day! Sure enough, the next day my silver necklace was waiting for me when I returned home.

"Several days later, on Bicycle Day, Jeff handed me a gift wrapped box which turned out to be the original (i.e., 25-year-old) box from the jewelry store in upstate New York where he had purchased the silver necklace for me! Inside was...an exact duplicate in gold!

“PS – A few years ago I entered the story in a Women’s Entertainment (WE TV) contest about romantic meetings. There were over 1,100 entries, and I was one of 20 finalists. A phone interview was conducted to determine the winner. Had I been willing to reveal further interesting details of the story, I think we would have won (no money – just a spot on tv), but I opted not to."

There's an interesting story at espn.com about guys who play in electric football tournaments. Here's a link.

It's funny, because I just was talking to a friend about electric football the other day. The kids in my neighborhood liked playing that when we were kids, although it could be frustrating. Most of the pieces were just as likely to go in circles or sideways as to head toward the goal line. And passing the ball -- actually, a little piece of foam roughly in the shape of a football -- using this spring-loaded gadget, was a nightmare.

I also had electric horseracing, which worked better, because each horse had his own groove, so there was no way to get off track.

As I recall, my electric football game got wrecked one day when my friend Dougie and I had an argument, started wrestling and he fell on the board. With it dented like that, the guys kept running off the field.

As primitive as electric football was, it actually was my most high-tech game. Everything else I played involved cards and dice. My favorites were Pigskin, the football game, and APBA, the baseball game. No telling how many hours I put in playing them.

I liked those games because I could determine stats, which was pretty much impossible in the chaos of an electric football game. I've always been a dorky numbers guy, so I enjoyed amassing massive numbers of score sheets and statistical analyses of batting averages, earned run averages and runs per carry. This fascination made me a natural for fantasy baseball, where you get to choose your own teams and compete using their actual statistics. I still play that today.

I've also played many of the electronic sports games. I'm partial to John Madden football, but I also spent a lot of time playing golf and baseball video games.

Here's the part where I'm supposed to tell you that despite all the technological advances, none of them can hold a candle to electric football, a symbol of a simpler time.

In the wake of my recent column about the proposed Pennsylvania constitutional “marriage protection” amendment, I got some phone calls.

Not many, maybe in part because my point of view — that gay people deserve the same rights and protections as everyone else under the law — is something I have expressed several times before. I suspect some of the people who disagree with me already have written me off on this subject. I didn’t even hear from the guy who always leaves me a voice mail message capped with the quip: “God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.”

The people who did call me were very nice, and we had some good discussions. But my conversations with them -- and others who see this subject differently than I do -- kept coming back to this: “I’m sorry,” they said, “but I just believe a marriage should be between a man and a woman.”

I can understand that. I’m not offended by the idea of a gay marriage, but when I think about wedding bells and wedding cakes, I don’t envision Adam and Steve either.

I have no trouble, however, envisioning a civil union acknowledging that two men or two women can choose to formalize their relationship in a way that gives their family certain legal and economic protections.

The proposed constitutional amendment would make that impossible. It also would target unmarried heterosexual couples, including senior citiziens, in domestic partnerships.

The clumsiness of this particular proposal aside, there’s a dividing line between those who see no problem with striking down any legal protection for same sex couples and those who think that’s unfair.

To me, it comes down to choice.

If you believe gay people choose their “lifestyle” over that of heterosexual couples, you can make a case that they made their bed and they can sleep in it. So to speak.

If you believe — as I do — that they have no choice, that people are born gay and can no more change their sexuality than a black person can decide to be white, then it’s much harder to make that case.

Sure, it’s possible to cover up your sexual preference and even appear to live a “normal” life. People do it all the time. But would you really wish that kind of lie on anyone?

Flip it around. Who in their right minds would “choose” to be gay, if they didn’t have to? Your reward is a miserable childhood. Family members who struggle to accept you for who you are. Potential discrimination in housing, your workplace and a host of other areas.

And then, to cap it off, desperate conservative politicians who drag you out for elections and beat you like a pinata.

Choice? You’d have to be an idiot.

We have a whole class of people — millions nationwide, according to the U.S. Census — for whom a heterosexual marriage would be a lie, simply because of the way they’re wired. Are you going to tell me that they don’t deserve the same opportunity a straight person has to enjoy a committed relationship and some financial security?

To me, that’s the essence of discrimination.

Marriage doesn’t need “protection” from gay people. But we all need protection against politicians who have proven over and over that the concept of morality means nothing to them, except as a smokescreen to cover their own abuses of power.

The bottom line is that I’m not asking anyone to embrace the idea of two people of the same sex walking down the church aisle. If you find that silly or offensive, you’re entitled to that opinion.

What you and our politicians aren’t entitled to do is to use our state Constitution to turn these people into second-class citizens — just because they’re different than you are.

I have an urban legend columns in the works for this week, but there's one item that I won't be able to fit in there, so I thought I'd share it with you here.

A couple of readers sent this to me, with an accompanying note that said, "This Denzel Washington story may give you a column." I can't tell if they KNOW it's a hoax, and are supplying it because I'm the paper's urban legend guy, or if they think it's true.

Anyway, here's the text of the message:

The Media Missd (sic) this one!!!! Please read this, then send it to everybody you know. They’ll thank you as they forward this to others as well. Subject: Denzel Washington, and Brooks (sic) Army Medical Center Don’t know whether you heard about this, but Denzel Washington and his family visited the troops at Brook (sic) Army Medical Center, in San Antonio, Texas (BAMC) the other day. This is where soldiers who have been evacuated from Germany come to be hospitalized in the United States, especially burn victims. There are some buildings there called Fisher Houses. The Fisher House is a Hotel where soldiers’ families can stay, for little or no charge, while their soldier is staying in the hospital. BAMC has quite a few of these houses on base, but as you can imagine, they are almost filled most of the time. While Denzel Washington was visiting BAMC, they gave him a tour of one of the Fisher Houses. He asked how much one of them would cost to build. He took his check book out and wrote a check for the full amount right there on the spot. The soldiers overseas were amazed to hear this story and want to get the word out to the American public, because it warmed their hearts to hear it. The question I have is why does: Alec Baldwin, Madonna, Sean Penn and other Hollywood types make front-page news with their anti-everything America crap and Denzel Washington’s patriotism doesn’t even make Page 3 in the Metro section of any newspaper except the Local newspaper in San Antonio.

Included were several photos of Washington touring the facility.

The answer to the e-mail’s question is that it didn’t get wider distribution because it’s not true. It’s an urban legend.

Yes, Denzel Washington did tour Fort Sam Houston, which houses the Brooke (correct spelling) Army Medical Center and also two Fisher House facilities within walking distance of the medical center. Washington did later make a substantial donation to the Fisher House Foundation.

But he didn’t whip out his checkbook on the spot, and he didn’t contribute the amount needed to build a Fisher House facility.

My daughter's boyfriend is a University of Pittsburgh student, a Pittsburgh area native, and a huge Steelers fan. For someone his age, not even born the last time the team won a Super Bowl, this is a huge event.

And he'll miss it. He'll be in Brazil, boarding a ship bound for Africa, at about game time. Needless to say, he's beside himself.

I suggested to my daughter that he ask everyone not to tell him who won until he returns this spring and can watch a tape of the game, but I don't suppose that's very practical.

My sympathy for him is tempered by two things. One is the fact that he's on what amounts to a world tour as part of the Semester at Sea program, an incredible opportunity for any college student. I love football, but I'd pass up a Super Bowl for that.

The other is that I'm a big sports fan, too, and I experienced similar bad luck many years ago. I grew up mostly in the Philadelphia area, and I've been in the Lehigh Valley for more than 30 years, but I did leave for one year to attend graduate school at Ohio State University in 1980-81.

As fate would have it, that year featured not only the sole World Series championship in Philadelphia Phillies history, but also the Eagles' first Super Bowl appearance. While Philadelphia fans were experiencing a year of unprecedented professional sports success, I was watching Cleveland Indian games!

I did get to watch the Eagles lose in the Super Bowl that year, so I wasn't deprived of that anticlimactic moment. And I saw that amazing World Series victory.

Still, let's see ... Miss a magic season of Eagles football and Phillies baseball because I'm in Columbus, Ohio? Or miss the Super Bowl because I'm in stuck in Rio de Janeiro?

I'll be making at least one more pitch in my column for true confessions to include in this year's Valentine's Day edition of the Looove Connection, but I figured I might as well mention it here, too.

I'm seeking your stories of disastrous dates, bad pickup lines, scummy boyfriends and other rubble from the Battle of the Sexes. I'm also amenable to your positive stories about fateful meetings, romantic proposals and the like.

My wife hates the Looove Connection, and my editor isn't too crazy about it, either. But I trot it out every year anyway, because I love vicariously immersing myself into the dating scene.

If you had to talk to politicians all the time, you'd feel the same way. As the Doctor of Love, I'm dealing with real people, with real stories to tell about the real world. I even find myself dispensing dating advice, and I haven't been on a date in 25 years. It's great stuff.

If you have a tale to tell, or just some general observations about what it's like to be single, drop me an e-mail or call me at 610 861-3632. I look forward to hearing from you.